The Australian Connection
by CSI Ames
Summary: Bella James is a CSI. A good one at that. But she has a past, who doesn't? When she joins the CSI: Las Vegas division, she must come to terms with that past, as well as moving forward to her future. Sorry it sounds like a movie trailer! M for safety.
1. Chapter 1

A/N: Hey guys, I have been working on this on and off for a while and I have like, 60 pages of this, but: I know how irritating it can be having a OC in fan fics, so read it first and let me know what you think, and I'll decide whether to keep going.

Disclaimer: I do not own anything CSI related no characters, locations or anything like that. No cases mentioned in this are to do with any crimes (to the best of my knowledge) and I apologise if they bear any resemblance.

I woke with a start. The alarm clock was ringing loudly. Groaning, I pulled a pillow over my head and tried to go back to sleep. It didn't work. The alarm clock kept going, not minding that I had nowhere near enough sleep last night. I sat up, rubbed my eyes, and turned it off. Sitting in my new apartment, I looked around at all the boxes I had yet to unpack. Throwing back the covers, I swung my legs to the floor. Feeling it under me, I stood and stretched. Heading to the wardrobe, I glanced at all the clothes and started rummaging through for the perfect outfit. I normally wouldn't care, but today was a very important day. It was my first day at CSI: Las Vegas Division. Nothing was jumping out at me, so I headed into the bathroom and decided to look when I was finished with my shower.

As the hot water ran down my back and woke me up, but at the same time relaxing all my muscles, I carefully washed, shaved and exfoliated. Stepping out of the shower, I wrapped the towel firmly around me and walked back to the bedroom. Standing in front of the clothes, I decided I needed my mum's help. She always knew what to do in situations like this. I walked over to the phone, and was just dialling in the number when I realised that it was a different time zone from home. It was the middle of the night in Australia. I was on my own. I had to do this by myself.

Stepping back in front, I randomly pulled out clothes until I had an ensemble I was happy with. White V neck mid length sleeved tee under a red trench coat with jeans tucked into suede black boots. Classy, yet street wise, yet "I-mean-business", I smiled. Going into the bathroom, I carefully straightened my hair, and pulled a section of it back, sliding a black clip into place to hold it there. I left my hair elastic on my wrist just in case. My makeup was simple, yet helped accentuate my features. I took off my glasses to apply a couple of coats of mascara and stood back to admire my handiwork. Good enough, I reasoned.

"My name is Bella James, and I am an accomplished CSI. I can do this." _Oh great, now I'm having conversations with a mirror. I'm going insane. _

Going out into the kitchen, I grabbed an apple and a small juice. I packed my keys, phone, iPod, wallet and identification in my handbag and went down to the car park. I was terrified, but at the same time, so excited I could burst.

* * *

As I waited at the front desk of the CSI lab, with a receptionist who seemed far too helpful for her own good, I looked up at the board of officers who had lost their lives. Calm down, Bella, I told myself. It won't be as bad as you think it will be. Then I noticed a red headed woman striding towards me. Her confidence was intimidating. She walked straight to me, and stuck out her arm.

"Bella James I presume?" I nodded and shook her hand. "Catherine Willows. Welcome to CSI."

"It's... nice to be here." Why did I find this woman so confronting?

_Come on Bella, grow some backbone. _

"Let me give you the grand tour." She gestured for me to follow her. She walked fast, and in some places of jammed corridor, it was hard to keep pace with her. As I followed and she pointed out various rooms such as the DNA and trace labs, the AV lab and the Ballistics lab, I began to realise what a maze this place was. After we had visited Detective Jim Brass's office and had an introduction, we ran into Sofia in the corridor. We chatted like old friends and Catherine seemed confused until Sofia explained to her that she was the one who had convinced Ecklie to hire me at CSI. We kept moving after Sofia excused herself because of an emergency in Henderson. I was amazed at the design- there were corridors that looked like they went on forever and other corridors that looked like they went nowhere. I was starting to think I would never have it memorised when we got to what Catherine labelled the "Break room".

"This is the best place in the whole lab. More often than not, it's where we meet up at the end of shift, and where we brief each other at the beginning of shift." She gestured for me to enter, and came in quickly after me.

There were a few people sitting at the table in the middle of the room. A petite brunette was reading a file, going over photos. Her case maybe? A large man, with a shaved head was reading a newspaper, and barely noticed that I had entered the room. An African American guy was leaning against the back of his chair, his phone open in his hands. Then I saw him. A smallish white guy, wearing a loud and obnoxious shirt of yellow with large blue flowers, open to the bellybutton with a white long sleeved tee underneath. His jeans were tight on his legs, and his yellow converse had the laces undone. His hair was spiked just that tiny bit too perfectly- a casual attempt to look like he hadn't tried, I deduced- and his eyes were alight with excitement. I giggled as he rushed to the fridge and grabbed a bottle of water. Downing it, he slopped half of it over his shirt. I raised my eyebrow, scrutinising his clumsiness. Wiping away the rest of the water away from his mouth with his sleeve, he stopped, and stared at me. My stomach dropped, and my heart began racing.

He recapped the bottle, set it down on the counter and took a few steps towards me. My heart raced even faster, and I was sure he could hear it. For God's sake Bella, I chastised myself, what are you doing?

_He isn't even that cute!_

"Greg Sanders", he said extending his arm. I took it and shook it firmly. I was sure he could feel my pulse under my skin. He stared at me, assessing me up and down, and I began to feel like a cow being bought at an auction back home.

"Bella James" I replied. "It's nice to meet you."

"G'day" He replied. So it was that easy to recognise my accent? I raised an eyebrow at his attempt of an Australian accent, but bit my tongue. It was a bit early to be antagonising people that would have to be my family.

From the table I saw the African American man get up and slip his phone into his pocket.

"Warrick Brown", he introduced himself. "I'm a local around here, so if you need any help with anything, let me know." I introduced myself, and thanked him. I might need some of that help later- I still had no idea where anything was in this city.

The tallish, stronger looking one came up next. His name was Nick Stokes. He had a strangely reassuring Texan accent which made me feel right at home.

The petite brunette's name was Sara Sidle and she apologised, but she had to leave right away, her case file was due at the DA's office in half an hour. She was a newbie at this lab once, and told me to ask her any questions if I had them. She seemed nice enough.

Soon after Sara left, an older man walked in, his arms laden with folders. They weren't kidding, this lab was busy.

"New cases." He announced. "Sara and Greg, you have a triple out in Henderson. Catherine, you and Nick can take the 419 at the Tangiers, and I'm going to supervise with Warrick at a suspicious circs in Death Valley." He looked up. "Where's Sara?"

That was when he noticed me.

"She's just gone to the DA's office to hand in her case file. I'll page her and let her know the address of the scene." Greg offered. "By the way Grissom, this is Bella James. The new CSI."

The older man called Grissom stepped forward, juggling the files, and held out his hand.

"Gil Grissom, Lab Supervisor. It's a pleasure to meet you. How was the flight?"

"Horrible. They showed a Hugh Grant movie." I replied. Greg laughed.

"Well then, seeing as we have an extra hand today, I might send you out to the Triple with Greg and Sara. I understand all your qualifications are in order?"

"Yes sir." I replied. _Sir? Sir? What a tool_. I wasn't at school anymore.

"Fantastic. Here are your case files. Let's get to it." He handed out the files as we left the room.


	2. Chapter 2

A/N: So here's the new chapter. Hopefully it moves a little more forward for you guys- there's an actual case and mention of CSI stuff in it this time- because even I know that the last chapter went a bit slow.

Disclaimer: I own nothing besides the Bella character and the idea for the case. All other CSI related things belong to their own respective writers.

The car ride with Greg out to Henderson was horrible. First, he insisted that I listen to this band that for some reason decided that screaming the lyrics would be preferable to singing them and also decided that the entire song should be drowned out by the drummer anyway. I smiled and pretended to be enjoying myself. I mean, this was hardly the time to be knocking back friends. We pulled over at a gas station for a quick refuel of our stomachs, something I was initially opposed to.

"Hey, it's not like the dead are getting any deader. Besides, Super Dave will still get there after us anyway. He's always late." Said Greg, when I voiced my objections. I must have pulled a face because Greg laughed. "What were they like in Australia? Was CSI like the military? Was it really straight laced?" I pursed my lips and refused to answer, and instead got stuck into my sandwich. I didn't want to get into what it was like in Australia because that would mean going into things I felt like I didn't need to just yet.

"Penny for your thoughts, Bella?" I looked up.

"Hmmm?" It took me a second to register the question. "My happy place, Greg"

* * *

We arrived at the scene, and it was pandemonium. It was nothing like I had ever seen before. Two groups of people were facing off across the street from each other. Either side was being held back by 10 or so police officers, including Sofia and Brass. Sara waved to us from the backyard where the victims were. I signalled I was coming. I was just getting my kit out of the car and removing my coat to put on the CSI vest when the first shot was fired. It was so loud my eardrums went into temporary shock. I couldn't hear anything and was taken by surprise when two hands grabbed me from behind around the waist and pulled me to the ground. I tried to lift my head, but the body lying on top of me prevented me moving an inch. Whoever it was, was rubbing my arm, evidentially trying to comfort me, but all I could think about was what was going on. A million thoughts ran through my head, all scenarios ending badly.

_Someone dead, someone injured... _

My hearing was slowly coming back, muffled at first, then large portions of sound, and finally the whole thing. If I thought it was bad before the gunshot, it was worse now. Someone had been injured or killed. I could hear the grief in someone's screams. The wailing was so pained. Swearing, threats, screams of men and women.

I tried again to lift my head. This time, the person on top of me allowed me to do so. It was only then did I see who it was. Greg had jumped on top of me to protect me. I turned my head to face him, but couldn't think of anything to say. He simply looked back at me and cocked a smile onto his face.

"Bet this beats anything from Australia."

"Well, we haven't been in the scene yet. Who knows, Australia might top that."

It was then I realised that Greg was still lying on top of me.

"Um, Greg?"

"Yeah?"

"You think we should get into the crime scene now? You know, actually go and do some work?"

"Oh, right, yeah. Of course."

* * *

The scene was horrible. Our triple had been upgraded to a quadruple. Another person had been shot in the shooting outside. That being said, it was a fairly cut and dry investigation. Two warring families had escalated the violence to openly shooting each other. All we had to do was collect all the guns from the participants and cartridge casings from the street and backyard. Ballistics would be able to find matches, and our job would be done. Sara left with the bodies to head over to the coroners, leaving me and Greg to do collection. I was documenting my 97th -and last- bullet casing, when a large shadow appeared over the top.

"Are you nearly done?"

"I will be in a minute Greg, when you get out of my light." I aimed up my camera and took the shot next to the marker. I looked around. All the bullets seemed to have been marked and collected. "Did you get all the other stuff?"

"Sure did" He held up a bag that contained the evidence. "I'm going to feel like Santa when I drop all of this on Bobby Dawson."

* * *

Bobby Dawson wasn't impressed.

"I was just about to go home, ya'll." He sighed and looked down at the pile of envelopes Greg and I had just given him. He looked up at Greg, who just shrugged and smiled. Then he noticed me. I was beginning to feel like a panda in a zoo. Whenever someone new looked at me, they did the whole look- up, down, face, arms, legs, judging my age. I felt like opening a "Guess My Weight and Win" stall.

"You must be the new girl Hodges told me about."

"Who's Hodges?" I looked at Greg, who just sighed.

"Hmmm, it amazes me how he knows this stuff without actually knowing it firsthand." He replied. I looked back at Bobby Dawson.

"I'm Bella James."

"Well, it sure is nice to meet you Miss James. But I better get a head start on these bullets and casings if I ever want to go home sometime this week." We waved goodbye to him, and wished him luck.

Heading towards the break room, I realised how tired and achy I was. This shift had lasted 14 hours, and it was dark outside. Walking in, I sat on the couch and laid my head on the arm rest.

"Coffee?" Greg offered. I scrunched up my nose and refused. He turned around. "It's Blue Hawaiian. Some of the finest stuff you can buy. It's one of the best coffees in the world." I screwed my nose up again.

"No thanks Greg. I just don't drink coffee. I'm more of a tea person."

"Damn," he replied. "I used to hide my coffee in the tea bag jar. If you're going to be filling that with tea bags, I'm going to need a new hiding place."

"You have to hide your coffee?"

"Sure do. The Columbian Motor fluid that they try to pass off as coffee here is hated by all, and they all try to snaffle mine."

I laughed and turned on the TV. Greg came and sat next to me, drinking his coffee. I have to admit, it did smell better than most coffees I had been around before. We sat there watching some forensics movie. It was fun, picking out the inconsistencies and evidence that was really irrelevant. Funny how that stuff is the stuff that helps get the conviction.

"Just because someone is born in July doesn't mean he's going to murder someone in July." Greg laughed.

It was 2am by the time we left the break room for the locker rooms. Greg was so easy to be around. I found I could be a lot more open to him than a lot of other people. It's not every day that you meet someone you can push around and joke around with when you've only known them for a few hours. I was normally so shy, so reserved, so easily intimidated. But not with Greg. Especially not with the way my heart went into overdrive whenever I looked at him. But this was insanity. I'd known him a day. I was only here temporarily. I couldn't do this. Not with everything I knew back home.

We entered the locker room and I crossed the floor to my locker. Entering the combination 25-27-34, I grabbed my bag out of my locker, and turned around to see Greg minus a shirt. Embarrassed, I squealed and spun back around to face the door. Covering my eyes, I flushed crimson. He laughed, and then took his sweet old time to find a replacement. I turned around when he had his back to me. A large scar covered his back. I took a few steps forward, and stretched out my fingers, tracing the outline of the scar. His body stiffened and goose bumps erupted on his skin.

"How?" He knew exactly what I meant.

"Lab accident about 3 years ago." He replied quietly. He turned. We were face to face. Too close. I took an automatic step backwards. An emotion I didn't recognised flashed behind his eyes, but I couldn't look away. His eyes searched mine, searched my face. I didn't know what he was looking for. His hand came up to the side of my face, and cradled it in his palm. I closed my eyes, breathing in his smell. I was burning up and I was sure he could feel it against his hand. Suddenly, the door opened. Sofia stood there.

"Am I interrupting?" Greg dropped his hand to his side, and then decided to run it through his hair. Tell tale sign of guilt. Dumbass.

"Um," I coughed. "No, something has to be happening for you to interrupt it." I took another step back. "What's going on?"

"Just wanted to let you know that everyone involved in today's shooting has been arrested and charged. Well done guys. I'll see you tomorrow." With a knowing look, she left the room, leaving me and Greg and a very awkward silence.

* * *


End file.
